Just A Little Girl
by Chirugal
Summary: Kel has yet another run in with Joren...


**JUST A LITTE GIRL** by Chirugal

**Rating**: K+

**Disclaimer**: The world and characters belong to Tamora Pierce. I just worship her.

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"Mindelan, pair up with Stone Mountain. Nicoline, Runnerspring, do the same." As soon as Lord Wyldon moved out of earshot down the line of pages, four voices were raised in a collective groan. 

"Watch your stance," Keladry of Mindelan advised Esmond of Nicoline. Staff-sparring with Garvey of Runnerspring had often proved a painful experience for her friend.

"Get her good." Joren of Stone Mountain smiled at Garvey's pointer and assumed his stance opposite Kel. For moments on end, Kel fixed him with her most withering stare. Joren gave her a blank, '_why, what could I have done to incur that?'_ smile in return. Kel wasn't fooled. Blonde, blue eyed and beautiful, Joren was an extreme conservative, believing that women should never be allowed to try for their shields of knighthood. From her arrival as a probationer a year before, he had set out to make her life a misery, at the beginning succeeding. But as Kel made friends amongst the pages, including Duke Baird's son Nealan of Queenscove and the crown prince Roald, Joren and his cronies had been forced to back off, finding only occasional openings for viciousness. This looked like it would be one of those times.

"Girls have no place here," he would say. "Girls belong safely on their fiefs, at the stove." Kel often itched to introduce him to Ilane, her mother, who could easily trounce Joren at any exercise he cared to name.

"For Mithros' sake, you two! Do you need me to start you off?" Wyldon had noticed their inertia. "Mindelan striking, Stone Mountain blocking to start. Go!"

Kel flushed at the negative attention, silently cursing Joren. She swung her staff towards him, to tap it lightly against his as he blocked. She blocked in return as he struck, equally politely, his face still wearing his bland smile. Wyldon moved on, and Kel braced herself for the oncoming attack.

Despite the novelty of the weighted harness that hung heavy over her shoulders, she was confident of her ability to hold her own against the fourth year page. New weights had to have been added to his own harness, and besides, Kel was a fast learner. Joren always underestimated her, however – she doubted he would ever learn. Also, his insults would take up some of his energy – Kel privately saw these as unnecessary demonstrations of inferiority, although sometimes her mouth opened of its own accord. When this happened, she usually favoured taunts about his feminine appearance, which hit home with satisfying ease.

Joren's strikes and blocks remained deceptively passive, and Kel caught herself relaxing. It wouldn't do to be caught off guard, she told herself, correcting her stance just in time. Joren's next strike was fierce, and Kel's arms strained to keep his staff from cracking down on her shoulders.

Eyes glinting with malice in his neutral face, Joren whispered to her, " Are you all right, little girl? Would you like me to ease up for you, or does this help you strengthen your arms for kneading bread dough?"

Kel fought to keep a straight face and failed, her face splitting into a grim smile. Of all the ridiculous insults… "I can't wait until we're both knights, Joren," she replied pleasantly, thrusting away his staff and striking just as hard as he recovered. Joren only just had time to recover and block the middle blow. "I'd like to challenge you properly one day. The look on your face as you fall backwards into the mud will be very entertaining, I'm sure."

Joren's lip curled, and he swung low, attempting to knock her legs out from under her. Kel blocked with seeming ease, repressing the urge to wince as she strained to keep his staff at bay. Before he could open his mouth to abuse her again, she asked curiously, "What do you have against girl pages, Joren?"

He blocked her high strike with a thrust that was almost a blow in itself. "Girls aren't page material. Haven't you been listening to me for the past year? There's no way a girl can keep up with the boys. Sooner or later, you'll realise that and go running back to Mindelan, or to the streets of Corus to offer your services to the common man in a different way."

Kel didn't flinch. The slurs on her morality were commonplace. She almost opened her mouth to offer a sharp retort, but then decided not to sink to his level. Instead she focused on all the things she would do when she was a knight. _Stone._ _I am stone. _She would be an inspiration to girls everywhere, living proof, as Alanna the Lioness was, that girls could withstand the pressures of page training to earn their shields. The men would be forced to concede the point, too. She would ride through Tortall, helping people in need and battling the enemy of Scanra, Carthak and the Copper Isles.

Joren smirked, believing her silence meant he had cowed her into submission. Good intentions gone, Kel smiled sweetly. "Why would Corus need another prostitute to please the men? They already have you." She herself had nothing against men who liked other men, but it was the easiest way to rile the older page.

His beauty masked by an ugly scowl, Joren dropped his staff to the ground and lunged at Kel. Taken by surprise, and not wanting to use a weapon against an unarmed opponent, the girl was unable to dodge his fist, which hit her squarely in the eye. Pain flared, not for the first time, and with pain came anger.

Regardless of the presence of Lord Wyldon nearby, Kel dropped her staff and dove for Joren. She didn't relish the punishment duty she would receive as a consequence, but comfort lay in the thought that Joren would get just as much. When hit, most girls wouldn't hit back; this was exactly why Kel had to.

Her punch landed squarely in Joren's gut, knocking the wind from him. Kel allowed herself a small measure of satisfaction as his eyes grew wide and he gasped for breath. A small measure was all she had time for: he recovered quickly and sprang to his feet, grabbing a fistful of her hair and dragging her towards him. Immobilised, Kel could only stand, her head at a ridiculous angle, as Joren hissed, "What did you say?"

"Now who's not listening? I said, you like men. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Joren snarled; she couldn't make out the words. His fist flew towards her. Acting on the Yamani instinct that rushed through her, Kel hooked her leg around her assailant's and twisted. Joren went down with a surprised curse, and Kel smiled, barely feeling the pain in her hurt eye.

"Mindelan! Stone Mountain!" Wyldon's voice cut through the flock of pages like a razor blade. "Desist, immediately!" Respectfully, Kel moved out of striking distance of Joren, scooping up her forgotten staff. "What is the meaning of this?" The training master's eyes gleamed with anger.

Both pages remained silent. _Joren_ _must be thanking Mithros that I won't tattle,_ Kel thought bitterly. _Wyldon_ _would crush him like an ant if he knew what started this…_ She was less than sure on this point, but the thought eased some of the pain in her bleeding scalp and black eye.

As she listened numbly to the bells and bells of punishment duty metered out to them, she studied Joren thoughtfully. The fourth-year bore no visible signs of the fight, although she was sure his leg, stomach and wherever he had taken the impact of his fall would bruise later.

_I hope you've learned your lesson. But somehow, I doubt it,_ she judged. At least she had stood up for herself, and had proved her point.


End file.
